All That Glitters
by Miss Yvonne Hartman
Summary: Haymitch and Effie grow up in the different districts… Hayffie drabbles
1. District One

All That Glitters

Haymitch and Effie grow up in the different districts… Hayffie drabbles

AN: I don't own the Hunger Games...

**District One**

If it was not for the Quarter Quell they might have never met. Euphemia Trinket was in the Academy a year below Haymitch Abernathy, prepped and trained for the 50th Hunger Games while she was marked for the 51st.

Tributes do not mingle. They do not have friends.

But the call for four tributes to compete in the Quarter Quell meant that she was moved up a year. The four tributes, Haymitch, Euphemia, Brutus and Diamanté trained and ate together. Their strategy involved the Alliance, pulling in Districts Two and Four if they were promising. They don't understand why the alliance has to start now, when there is time to watch each others fighting styles, for a gossamer fine bond to grow between them.

They are tributes and romance is the last thing on their minds, but Haymitch doesn't fail to notice that Euphemia Trinket is a beauty. A jewel. With sapphire eyes, ruby lips and hair so white blond it shines like moonstone. She would have no problem pulling sponsors. It's the beautiful ones who get the best gifts and Haymitch knows that if he sticks with her, makes her like him, then he would have access to whatever bounty was sent her way – food and weapons and medicine.

So he charms her. Or tries to, at least. Haymitch doesn't talk to girls. His life is train, eat, watch reruns of the previous Hunger Games to learn about strategy. There's no socializing in the mix. Because District One only looks for troubled boys to train for the slaughter.

She laughs at his attempt, her eyes flashing coldly. "No way, Abernathy. I'm not here for that, or _you_." she wrinkled her nose. She's a delicate flower, sent in form the richest part of town and an old jewel hunting family. But she's poisonous and spiteful and jealous.

Haymitch shakes his head, amused at her fire. "Whatever Princess. You'll be back soon enough." He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What makes you so sure?" she demanded.

"I just know."

He hears her laughing as he strides off.

XxX

They train hard. Euphemia wonders sometimes, as the sweat beads on her shoulders in sprints and weights and practice fist fights, if she won't just burn up and collapse the moment the gong rings to start the Games. The trainers are demanding so much. She perfects her presentation, striding up and down in sky high stilettos with a book on her head, saying lines with white smiles. _I'm so honoured to be here, Caesar!_ She hits the target every time, straight through the heart with a knife, a sword, a spear.

She won't burn out. She won't let herself. She's trained too hard and too long to let the crown go to a slut like Diamanté, a brute like Haymitch or some inferior, snivelling idiot from any other District.

XxX

Haymitch thinks they're all stupid. The tributes, the trainers, the Games. Euphemia.

XxX

The Arena is a thing of beauty. The meadow dotted with white flowers, the jewel bright birds. They learn it is poison when Diamanté, her arms full of white roses, collapsed and her cannon sounded seconds later. And when Kaleb, the boy from Two, goes into violent convulsions and spasms when he drinks water from a stream.

Haymitch and Euphemia just look at each other, knowing that their Alliance is the best decision, with their sponsors sending in food and weapons and water, the only safe things in this world they are in.

XxX

The Games are going on forever, the Career pack is down to ten and they scour the mountain side, looking for Tributes. And though they barely talk during the day, the lie close at night, sharing body heat and comfort in the safe harbor of their embrace.

Haymitch never thought he'd like Euphemia. But as the Games go on he finds she is smart, and talented with her knives. She's the only Tribute here that he's unwilling to kill. As they walk, the sun dipping lower in the sky, he takes her hand and gives it what he hopes she'll take as a reassuring squeeze. She won't let his hand go, her fingers curling around his, giving him a rare smile that dazzles like diamond and sends a fresh, two litre bottle of water their way.

She leans in to him as they walk side by side, her lips close to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, "Haymitch… I want to tell you something. You know how you said I'd be back… I guess I just wanted to say... I-"

Then the mountain explodes. Everything is a blur of heat and falling rock and Haymitch loses his grip on her hand and his world went dark.


	2. District Two

All That Glitters

Haymitch and Effie grow up in the different districts… Hayffie drabbles

AN: I don't own the Hunger Games...

**District Two**

The rain lashed the ground, turning the dirt and ground marble dust from the mines into pale mud that splashed up on either side of the wooden cart. The boy huddled in the back under a wedge of plastic sheeting that kept off most of the rain. It was bitterly cold and the questions he had asked – where they were going, what happened to his parents - were ignored by the man driving the cart.

They stopped only once. At the side of the road a lamp was held by an old man under a cloak, a small girl of nine shivering and whimpering beside him, her lips blue with cold, blond hair plastered to her thin face.

"Is this the girl?" asked the driver and she was hoisted onto the back of the cart, her big eyes full of fear. The boy shuffled and she crawled under the plastic beside him. He held her hand, trying to warm her fingers for her.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

Teeth chattering she said, "Effie."

"Haymitch."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know."

XxX

In District Two orphans are given to the Academy. There is no real orphanage and there is a large supply of children of various ages to train for the Games, with the dangers in the mines and the annual floods.

It is winter when Effie and Haymitch are brought to the Academy. She's nine years old and is given a knife before she's assigned a bed and no comfort for her dead parents.

Haymitch is older than her by three years, eligible for the Reaping but he won't volunteer until he is eighteen. He's funny and smart, for a boy from the poorest village in Two. Effie can't understand how she, a girl form the most affluent district, the daughter of the military commander, has ended up in training for the Hunger Games. Haymitch calls her princess whenever he knife goes way off target. They're young but they know that the Games are the highest form of honour in their District. One day they'll be film stars.

Even though the Academy doesn't really approve of friendships between the children – they are Tributes or allies and those who do not become volunteers will stay and pay back the Academy's kindness as trainers – a friendship grows between them. In their bittersweet way, he keeps her smiling.

XxX

When she's fifteen she feels something more for the silver eyed trainee. His dark smile and his quick hands that flash a metal sword like lightning.

She watches him with her baby blue eyes, the flex of his muscles as he works on the carving, chipping away at the marble. All the Tributes learn the trade of their district, there's still a chance that they will not be chosen to volunteer for the Games, and if they aren't trainers then they are labourers, working stone into carvings and pavers, for the streets of the Capitol.

Effie doesn't say much, content to watch him transform the pink marble offcut into a design.

"Can I see it yet?" she asks. Haymitch shakes his head and she goes inside to get them cold drinks from the machine in the Academy hall, it's hot work under the sun and his back glistens. "Can I see it now?" she gives him a slow smile and Haymitch shrugs, accepting the bottle. They may not get dessert, but they have a taste for the lemony drink. He steps back to let Effie appraise his work.

The pale marble is etched with swirling vines and raised flowers. He's talented. He's incredibly talented and she thinks he could make a living from this, if they are not chosen for the Games. She's surprised, that hands that create the delicate swirl of rose petals could easily slice and behead and kill. And she supposes that the same deadly beauty lied in her ability to throw a knife with diamond cut precision.

_Haymitch and Effie _

Their names were etched in the centre of the stone heart and her breath sticks in her throat.

"So what do you think?" he asks, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, those silver eyes on her back. Effie turns and offers a small smile. She steps closer, her heart pounding and Haymitch stands up a little straighter at her close proximity. She takes a breath as he licks his lips before she presses her petal coloured mouth to his. He is stunned for a moment, but then kisses her back, his hands going around her waist.

It's bittersweet, because they know that nothing in their world is set in stone.

XxX

The carving is too big to take as a token, they joke about it until the severity of their situation stops their laughter. Haymitch is going into the Quell. Effie is staying behind. When he tells her he is volunteering she won't talk to him, staring blankly with her eyes dead ahead.

"It's all I know, Effs." He tries to explain. "I've trained my whole life for this."

"You could say no."

"You know I can't."

She has nothing to say to that, she knows in her heart that there is no chance. He will either beat the odds and win, or she will never see him again, those are the only two options. He reaches for her hand, hoping to hold her there and kiss her again but she pulls free, walking forwards to lean heavily in the doorway of his small room. Echoing up the staircase she can hear the sounds of the other children, training, fighting, eating. The noise presses on her eardrums, making her head spin. Duty and honour are at odds with her love for the silver eyed boy, a swirling mess of emotion.

"Effie."

"Just try to win, Haymitch." She says and walks out, out of the Training centre and through the town. Pale clouds of ground stone waft across her path and turn her shoes white. And she remembers standing in pale mud in the rain and Haymitch's hand holding hers as they were taken to the Academy. And she can't bear to be without him, her arms aching for his. She turns back and runs.

XxX

The day of the Reaping is unseasonably hot and Effie is hopping from foot to foot, nervous and jumpy. They call the boys first and Haymitch volunteers, walking steadily to the stage while the other boy bolts forwards with glee.

Then they call the girls and Effie shoves her way forwards.

"I Volunteer!" she shouts, still on the move towards the front of the group. There are confused mutters and stares. Haymitch's mouth drops open in surprise. "I Volunteer! She says again, already on the stage. No one stops her. She's young for a District Two Career, but she doesn't care. Her eyes meet Haymitch's.

She'd rather die in the Games then go on living without him.


	3. District Three

All That Glitters

Haymitch and Effie grow up in the different districts… Hayffie drabbles

AN: I don't own the Hunger Games...

**District Three**

"I give you your Tributes, Peony Kite, Maysilee Drake, Gizmo Hale and Haymitch Abernathy! Let's have a big round of applause for your representatives in the 50th Hunger Games!"

XxX

He was surprised she came to say goodbye to him. There were his parents who couldn't stop crying, and friends from school who gave him bread for the train ride, and burly hugs. And then she stepped in, wearing a pink dress.

"Effie."

"We don't have long." She said, walking towards him, "I just… Good luck, Haymitch. I know you'll do well."

He stares at her like she's grown an extra head or something. He and Effie Trinket do not talk. He always found her annoying in school, never really had much to say to her since they were from such different sides of town.

She seemed to be hoping he would speak and teeters uneasily on her feet in the silence. "Well. Like I said, good luck."

She turned to go and Haymitch reached out to grab her hand. "Effie." He said, then was lost for words. He blushingly pulled her into a hug. "If I come home…" he doesn't know how to say it, but fortunately Effie had the words.

"Dinner would be great. You can pick me at seven on the dot the day after you get home." She pulled back and kissed his cheek. "Don't keep me waiting, Abernathy."

XxX

He'd always found her annoying. Bossy and punctual and prissy. And yet, as the train carries him away from his home, Haymitch finds himself missing her. He missed how she was always desperate to be right, even when she wasn't – "That's the Random Access Memory and it stores the code for when the computer starts up!" – her breathy, hyperactive voice going straight through his head.

Annoying, but kinda cute. Sometimes. She was sixteen now, he wondered when she had gotten beautiful.

XxX

The Training is brutal. He is not a Career, although his mentor suggests joining their alliance. Haymitch is reluctant, there's not much use for him in that type of gang.

He surprisingly finds himself looking back, not forwards. Back to Effie and home, even though the odds of ever seeing them again are not in his favour.

XxX

He did not love Effie Trinket. He couldn't stand her. He hated her cute nose and her dark curly hair and how her skin is a pale moonlight instead of the ashen grey of everyone else in their District. He hated the stupid clothes she wore. Her mother was a dressmaker, such an odd career for someone in their district, but they still need clothes and Effie always wore silly dresses with ribbons, but now he realises that they were cut together from scraps of fabric. Her family was struggling just as his was.

Maybe he didn't _hate_ her.

XxX

It's the patterns and hues of the cloth she used to wear he remembers most as he curls up for warmth in the Arena. It's beautiful but tonight it is cold, so cold. He hides during the day, hearing her voice in his head – "Remember about electricity. You can overload an electrical source if you…" – If you what? Her advice faded in and out of his thoughts as he slowly worked on creating a gun that would transform the suns energy into deadly rays. He could do it, but he needed more time, more sponsors, more equipment.

XxX

He wins.

XxX

Like promised he walks from his new house in Victor's Village to find her sitting on the porch steps. She looks up, the overhead light catching in her hair.

It's 7:02pm. She just smiles and hugs him.

XxX

Haymitch hadn't thought he would ever need her, fall in love with her, but he did. The horrors faded slowly over time, over many years. But Effie was always there, with her quiet smiles and the way her delicate fingers could unravel and rebuild the fragmented code of his matrix.

She says, "I love you."

He doesn't hesitate to say, "I love you too."


	4. District 4

All That Glitters

Haymitch and Effie grow up in the different districts… Hayffie drabbles

AN: I don't own the Hunger Games...

* * *

**District 4**

The storm had washed up all sorts of things onto the sand. The usually pristine beach was now littered with remnants of the deep. Some of it useless, bits of old wood, dead fish, plenty of seaweed and shells and wave smoothed glass. But there was a boat that the stormed had propelled out of the deep.

Haymitch and Effie found it first. They had been out walking to survey the damage for their respective fathers, who were fishermen, when suddenly she started running, her blond hair flowing out behind her. He shouted for her, the started running as well the moment he saw what she going towards.

It was old, there were cracks and breaks in the timber where it had been dashed against rocks and rested on the bottom of the ocean. The wood was warped in places and bleached white from the sun. But it had promise and they decided to rebuild it.

XxX

Effie didn't always talk to him at school. She had her own group of friends she would sit with. But when she worked with Haymitch on the weekends, he got her full attention. They shared old stories, legends and myths that their father's had told them. They grew close, but still distant. Always the distance between them.

XxX

The boat was beautiful by the time they finished it. Most of the wood had to be replaced, it was rotted through in the bow and broken in the stern. But Effie painted it white and red and Haymitch sanded the pole for the mast and together they sewed a white sail out of calico scraps.

She smiled at him as they worked and he fell a little more in love with her. Slowly, gently.

XxX

They took the boat out onto the water when it was complete, the wind lifting the sails and turning Effie's hair into a white flag on the breeze.

He wants to kiss her. But something makes him hold back. The Reaping will be soon, and sadness gathers in her eyes like dark clouds on the horizon.

So they sail on, across the water, with an immeasurable distance between them. They were lighthouses on distant shores.

XxX

Their Arena has a beach and that is where they camp. It's an obvious choice, them being from the fishing district, but it is terrain they know and love. The only bit of familiarity in their upside down world. They are still uncertain of their odds, the quasi-Careers who stand a better chance than Districts Six and upwards.

They have each other to cling to, life rafts in the swell of the uncertain surf. And in the darkening evening, as the sun turns the water into a mirror, she tells him she has always loved him. It can do them no good, only one can survive, but the knowledge of their feelings is a comfort. They stay close for warmth and that's when he kisses her. He's not sure if it's his inescapable death, or if he's loved her forever as well, but he threads his hand through her blond hair and kisses her deeply.

XxX

They are ambushed. They stand tall through the fight but their injuries are great and the Careers from District One laugh and leave them to bleed on the sand. Effie crawls closer to Haymitch and he tucks his one good arm around her shoulders as her hand rests over his pounding heart.

They open their eyes – silver into blue – and their respective colours, reflecting the stars, are the last thing they ever see.


End file.
